


Extracurricular Activity

by alivingsaint



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Teen Years, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alivingsaint/pseuds/alivingsaint
Summary: Michael works hard. Gob just wants him to play harder.
Relationships: George Oscar "Gob" Bluth/Michael Bluth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Extracurricular Activity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zaxal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaxal/gifts).



> A long time ago in chat we had a discussion about what the boys would get up to when the lights went out. I started the fic back then, but somehow weeks became months and then years. I still thought about the fic often and the conversation that had inspired me to create it in the first place. I thought about you most of all. After so much time, I hope it can still spark something inside you as it has for me. ♥
> 
> And [andithil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andithil), my ever patient and amazing beta: Thank you so much for your hours of support and encouragement. This fic wouldn't exist in its current state if it weren't for your input and love.

They’re laying on Gob’s bed when it happens. 

“Mikey?”

Silence. Not the “fuck you” kind, when Michael’s being a little PMSing prick. He wouldn't have pressed his body against Gob’s if that were the case, all loose-limbed and skin-on-skin while rocking the perfect hard-on.

Gob can't help but smirk. 

Three rounds in one night and the guy’s still itching to put some monkey in their business. Well, sort of, since Michael has this thing, these rules, like those three monkey rules, only a hundred times lamer. No fucking, no sucking, no kissing.

But touching? 

Hell, Michael’s all hands on dick for that. He’s down for ass-grabbing, back-scratching levels of fooling around, which had gotten them _this_ close to doing the deed all night. God, what Gob wouldn’t give for the debut of something even naughtier than the norm. Michael’s never said jack about licking, nipping, or biting. Maybe that’s the reason he’s pressing his sweet little mouth against Gob’s shoulder right now.

“What happened to your whole Puritan killjoy routine, huh?” Gob asks with a shudder, not that he’s complaining. If Michael finally wants to get hot and heavy with the oral stuff, he's totally down for showing him how he scores with all those chicks in high school. He could even go real slow with him. Yeah, he could work him up, giving him hickeys, mouthing at skin, spit-slick with _filthy_ amounts of drool all over—

Wait a minute. 

Gob frowns. That doesn’t sound or feel right. Michael’s doing a big fat nada with the lip action for one thing. For another, Gob’s shoulder is drenched to the bone in spit.

“Oh, gross, guy!” Gob jerks away, and Michael’s face plants in the pillow with a thunk. “Are you fucking kidding me, man?”

He gets no answer. 

“Hey, _guy_.”

Michael grunts and flops over when Gob elbows him in the ribs, but that's pretty much the end of that. The kid’s gone total mouth-breather on him, out like a fucking light. Gob rolls his eyes and settles on his back with a groan. 

The way he sees it, he has two options here. He could wake Michael for the next leg in their tour de nude, which past experience tells him is for the birds because Michael always gets super cranky with him for some reason. Or he could let him doze until morning, kind of like that one time Michael might’ve caught Gob spooning it up with him on accident. Big deal. Not like anyone would’ve walked in on them when Michael’s always first to rise and ditching him for his textbooks. 

Gob stares at the ceiling and sighs. He just doesn't get it. No sophomore should be studying like such a poindexter, but of course Michael doesn’t give a crap about the social risks involved.

“They’ll beat you to a pulp, Mike,” Gob had told him on their first day back at school. “Four AP classes and you’re joining speech and debate for fun? Really? Why don’t you just wear a sign that says ‘Hard for a good ass-kicking and I love what wedgies feel like’?” 

“Too many words for the demographic I’d be trying to reach, don’t you think? And I’m not joining the club for fun.” Doubtful, but Michael had insisted it was all for getting into a good college. “For my future,” he’d said. “Might want to try thinking about yours some time.” 

Thing is, Gob absolutely does. And he did that day, like when he’d been thinking about all the ways he could be teaching Michael a proper lesson. He’d considered pantsing him in the hallway, or socking him super hard for ignoring his words of wisdom. But in the end Gob couldn’t do either. Mostly because the guy was mysteriously MIA when Gob had gone looking to make him sorry.

Turns out Michael had spent every available break period inside the school library, just “getting a head start, Gob.” Freak. Maybe if Gob had decked his brother right then and there, he would’ve been able to knock some sense into him. But it had been late by the time Michael finally dragged his ass back home. Plus he’d been wearing his stupid banana stand shirt, which Gob could not begin to get over.

“You know you’re just a teen, right?”

Michael had barely looked at him as he’d trudged past Gob into their room. Real fucking nice. As if that’s what Gob had been after. A big old helping of ‘tude.

“I mean, Jesus, Michael.” Gob trailed after him. “Please tell me Dad put you up to this. Because if he didn’t, you need to learn to pump the brakes a little. Look both ways to get a life. You already slaved away your entire summer, man.”

“Uh-huh.” 

There was a thud. It was Michael's backpack hitting the carpet like a two-ton load of bricks. 

“Ugh.” Gob pushed the thing away with his foot. “I’m telling you, Mikey, you should be following my lead. No more working at the old fruit-in-a-box for starters. And homework?” He scoffed. “Say goodbye to that complete waste of time. I just outsource all of it. Easy peasy.”

Michael pinched his fingers over his eyes before turning back around and sighing. “I’m not gonna pay off some kids to keep my grades up, Gob.”

“No, but see, that’s not—” Gob made a frustrated sound as Michael crossed his arms. “You could, is my point. Should, actually. You totally should!” 

“Well, I’m sure you think so, but there’s a little something called having integrity. You know, working hard and making an honest name for yourself. Really earning it.”

“Jeez,” Gob wrinkled his nose. “You don’t give a shit if you burn out, huh? You some kinda masochist or something? Come on, man. I’m trying to help.” 

“And that would require a little something called altruism, of which you have none.” 

Michael said it like this was supposed to be a shortcoming on Gob’s part, as if he had room to talk around all the dictionary he just vomited into the open.

“God, can’t you see I’m offering you something better?” Gob swooped in to block Michael from dragging himself to his side of the bedroom. “It’s your ticket to riding the gravy train,” he insisted, grabbing him firmly by the shoulders. 

“I’ll pass,” Michael said. 

Because of fucking course he would.

“Let me go, Gob.”

“Relax, will you?” 

The guy was so tense Gob could feel his muscles locking beneath his hands. He kneaded inwards, nice and easy, but it was like trying to take the edge off a ridge. The dark circles under Michael’s eyes didn’t do him any favors either. “Eesh,” Gob tsked. “This is why you need me, Mikey.” 

“That is _not_ why—” Michael did a weird, full-body shudder and batted his hands away. “Really don’t need you for that, alright?”

“Shyeah, okay.” Gob latched onto his shoulders again despite the crazy-eyed look that Michael shot him. “You know what you remind me of right now? A junkie, Michael. Going through withdrawals. Bet you can’t quit, am I right? All that stupid work you do? But that’s what the pushovers are for. That’s why I’m here. To guide you. To inspire.” Gob massaged over Michael’s arms this time, mainly to hold him in place. 

“Is that right?” A shaky breath escaped Michael’s lips. He wet his mouth and balled his fists at his sides as Gob worked his way lower. “You saying you wanna be my sponsor, huh?”

“Well, role model, mentor figure… you know,” Gob chuckled. “Always happy to have your back.” 

“Doesn’t feel like it’s just my back,” Michael said tightly. 

Gob blinked down at his hands. “And your hips.” 

It’d been awhile since Michael had let him touch them. Usually he squirmed away before Gob could offer to sweeten the pot. He dragged his thumbs over the crests in wonder, unable to help himself as another shiver tumbled down his brother’s body. 

“We’re not gonna talk about this,” Michael’s breath hitched. “You got that?” 

“Uh…” Gob forced a laugh when Michael continued staring at him with those unnervingly intense eyes of his. “W-what about this aren't we talking about exactly?”

“Close the door, Gob,” he said.

Gob couldn’t have heard that right. Except Michael was scrabbling to undo his shirt and buckle, so what else was he supposed to do?

“Don’t forget the lock.”

Christ, the way Michael had been on him a second later, half naked already. It was more bananas than he’d probably sold all night. His hands went everywhere. Like, _everywhere._

“Holy fuck,” Gob gasped, trying to squeeze a handful of ass as they stumbled away from the door.

“Hey, hey, no fucking,” Michael panted, “no sucking, and no—”

“Shut _up_ , Michael.” 

Their noses bumped, and for a moment it was all hot breath against each other’s lips with only millimeters between them. That is until Michael shoved him hard, toppling Gob onto the nearest bed. Gob’s bed. He barely had time to blink before Michael was scrambling on top of him and fumbling with the fabric of his shirt.

“Just chill, okay?” Michael's voice shook. “We’re just taking it easy here. Real fucking easy, Gob. Just nice and—”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever you want, man.” Whatever Michael wanted to hear. Whatever would get him hotter for whatever the fuck this was.

It seemed to do the trick because Michael had suddenly arched and ground against Gob’s hips with a drawn out, desperate groan. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Gob said, quickly taking Michael’s hard dick in hand.

“Oh my god,” Michael agreed while moaning. “Don’t stop, Gob. Don’t stop, don’t—”

Yeah. Taking it easy was nowhere on the docket that night. It never is anymore. At least, not on the days Michael comes home with that certain edge about him. The edge that says he's wound tighter than a clock with no time to waste. 

Apparently being a repressed, sixteen-year-old nerd will do that to a person. Poor guy hasn’t been able to nail a single chick yet, let alone a taken one. It’s downright pitiful, but Gob likes to think he’s at least starting to break him out of his shell. 

Lord knows he’s gotten the handjobs to prove it. 

Shifting onto his side again, Gob idly runs his fingers over the dried patch of come on his stomach and smiles when Michael makes a soft snuffling sound against the pillow. The thing’s gotta be drenched in drool by now, but honestly? Everything was so worth it. Michael had come in clutch from the get-go, double-fisting their cocks as soon as they hit the bed. And that was only the beginning. The filth that came out of his mouth was like a deep dive into depravity. Gob wishes he could’ve captured it on tape — the way Michael had gasped obscenities against his chest, voice rough with lust as he’d slid between Gob’s thighs.

It was so close to being the real thing. Closer than they’d ever gotten. 

Gob’s never been more proud. Or hard. Or frustrated. But he can appreciate the progress from back when Michael wouldn’t even change in front of him.

Gob ducks closer, eyes roaming over the silhouette of Michael's now totally naked body. He doesn’t know why he’d been so shy in the first place. The kid’s got nothing to be ashamed of with a dick that pops boners like that, not to mention the sheer size of his loads. Gob would love to swallow one someday. Just for the experience. To satisfy the curiosity. He isn’t _gay_. He just doesn’t like being told that he can’t when what they can has gotten so much better.

In their final stretch of the night, Michael had curled up behind Gob, reaching around to jerk him off like his dick belonged to him.

“You wanna come, Gob?” he’d gasped, his own cock digging into the swell of Gob’s ass. “You like it when I get you off?”

“Yes!” Gob had all but sobbed as he thrust into his hand, babbling, “I-I need it, Michael. I need to -- _please_ \--”

His brother groaned long and low against his skin. It wasn’t a second later when they slammed over the edge together, Michael’s come splattering across his back. 

Gob can still feel it tugging at his skin as he shoulders over to Michael. He rests his head on the pillow next to his, half hoping that he’ll wake for a sleepy encore. But Michael doesn’t so much as twitch. 

“You trying to fake me out?” he asks just in case. 

Michael keeps on with the shut-eye. 

As far as disappointments go, Gob has suffered a lot worse.

After all, it’s no wonder he’s tuckered out after that killer performance, especially on the heels of his nerd-a-thon. If anyone’s earned the right to snooze for awhile, it’s Michael. 

There’s only one little problem — the waking part, AKA the moment he’ll find himself naked in Gob’s bed, caked in spunk and sweat. Michael had freaked the last time it happened, flailing himself off the mattress with a look of pure panic as he rushed to the bathroom.

It had taken well over a month for him to meet Gob’s eyes again, and Gob will be damned if they lapse back now. They’ve come too far and hard. 

He sighs, glancing between Michael and his empty bed. He’s gotta move him. That’s the only way to keep them on track.

“Michael…?” he tries one more time. But when it’s clear his brother is still dead to the world, Gob takes a deep breath to steel himself before rolling out of bed. 

Scooping Michael up should be a breeze at least. His arms are getting ripped from doing push-ups every morning. 

He kneels on the mattress for leverage and leans forward to lift his brother, moving slow to avoid jostling him awake. Michael doesn’t bat an eyelash. So far so good. 

It takes Gob another couple of moments to find his footing in the darkness, but he’s made this trek dozens of times. After a few steps, he knows he’s got this in the bag. Michael weighs about as much as some freshman chick would. Easy to pick up and toss around, though he’ll have to shelve the latter. For now anyway.

Gob smirks to himself. He feels like his own personal hero. Carrying them onward and up, then toppling forward as his foot catches, pitching Gob over the backpack Michael had dumped on the floor. 

He rights himself in the nick of time, but Michael shifts and moans in his arms. Gob freezes, heart thundering as he wriggles closer to his chest. If this is how the guy comes to, their nights of rolling in the sheets are done for. He should’ve just slept in Michael’s bed. He could’ve gotten away with it for a few hours, breathing in the scent of his pillow until dawn. 

“Gob…?”

Shit fucking hell goddamnit. 

Michael blinks at him with bleary eyes. “Gob, wha—” 

“Not Gob,” he blurts. “Who’s that guy?” 

Michael’s brow creases, and Gob scrambles to lay him down before he’s fully alert and conscious.

“Just go back to sleep, Michael. You’re sleeping now.” Gob pets his hair while yanking the sheets over his body. “See? Just a dream. None of this is real.”

Something pangs in Gob’s stomach as soon as the words leave his mouth. He swallows hard, unable or unwilling to keep his fingers from brushing through Michael’s hair. 

At least Michael doesn’t seem to mind it.

At least his eyes are growing heavier.

“Just a dream, huh?” Michael’s lips quirk. He looks either drunk or super high. “What’re ya doin’ up there, then?” 

All of a sudden, Michael seems to move in slow motion, leaning up and hovering for long moments before brushing his lips over Gob’s. The kiss is gentle and kind of shy, unlike any of the kisses Gob had fantasized about sharing with him someday. 

He moans quietly, and Michael chases it with a chuckle. 

“That was a freebie,” he murmurs against his mouth. “Thanks, pal.”

Gob’s breath catches in his throat. 

“W-wait, for what?” he chokes out, but Michael just plants a wet one on his cheek this time before sinking back to the mattress.

“Sleep well, Gob,” he yawns. 

Gob touches his lips and cheek and smiles. 

He absolutely will.


End file.
